Rumblorama
by Bimblesnaff
Summary: Dreamland is host to a number of annual events. None are more involved or fascinating than the Rumblorama, at least, they weren't...This began as an RP post at Kirby's Rainow Resort, but it fell unappreciated due to its massive length. Still a good read.


A gentle breeze swept over rolling gnolls as tranquility was in the air. Rotund shapes called Dreamlanders lazily rested about the hills, under trees, in the trees, in houses, on rocks, while walking... they rested everywhere, actually, since they were Dreamlanders. Sloth and gluttony were their pride. That's three of the seven without even trying, which they never do, either. The fourth meal of the day had just been wrapped up, so the citizens were resting up for the next five. Those were the big ones, after all. On this day, the residents should not have been so lazy, however. It was the dawning of an annual tradition, the race to the place to feed your face: Rumbl-o-Rama.

Every year, the grand contest was held to seek out one of the Legendary Dairy Products of Lore from the Hairy Dairy Fairy that was sent away to some unknown location in order to crown a new champion. Hundreds of contestants from all over Dreamland would gather for a shot at the title, and the cheese, ready to dash, battle, struggle, cheat, and do whatever it took to win, but that was a matter of the past. With as much as Dreamlanders competitions, times had changed, but, like they did before, they were about to change again. As a psychotic clown dreamed peacefully up in the branches, he was abruptly awaken by what came over the horizon. 

_"Hurry!"_ a shrill shriek echoed over the mounds and through the plains. The noise startled the young Poppy, tumbling him from his resting place and landing him atop a cyclops. Only the bomber and the Waddle Doo were awakened by the cries. Some others may have been stirred but did not care enough to remain so. Looking for the source to direct their anger, they saw a brown pudge running over the top of the hill. ... Well, waddling. The Waddle Dee's feet frantically sped faster than the ground was moving beneath them. He quickly lost his footing and tumbled down the hill, which fortunately was relatively free of any sharp rocks. Unfortunately, he seemed to perfectly seek out each one on his descent.

"Huh, that's odd," the junior Poppy pointed out. "He seemed to skip that one up there." No sooner than his words were spoken, the Waddle Dee somehow catapulted back up near the top of the incline to crash into the missed stone before falling all the way down to their feet.

"What are you doing screaming your head off at this hour?" roared Doo. It was not particularly late, but "this hour" tended to refer to _any_ hour in Dreamland.

"I'm sorry guys," he squeaked, "but something awful has happened!"

"Yeah, big surprise," yawned Poppy, covering his mouth with a floating hand. "When is there not a problem? What is it now? Did the King get greedy again? Was the Dream Fountain drained? Were the Dream Stars stolen? Heart Stars? Rainbow Drops? Crystal Shards? Dream Hearts? Crystal Drops? Dream Shards? Heart Crystals? Dream Drops? Dream Pez Dispenser Collection?"

"You know, with so many things regulating our dreaming and happiness," Doo felt like mentioning, "it's a wonder why we can't go without one or two of them."

"No, nothing's been stolen, and there's no time for Dream Debates," rushed the panicked squirt. "But we have got to hurry! The Rumbl-o-Rama is about to start, and no one is there yet! We can't miss it."

"But why?" demanded Poppy.

"I don't know," confessed Dee, sweating more than ever. "It'd be wrong?" 

"Why should we even bother?" chuckled the clown. "We'll just get beat by the usual and still reigning champion of countless years. I mean, he wins all the contests, all the time." 

"Curse that pink, round, inflatable blob!" shouted Doo, waving his flipper fiercely in the sky, or as fiercely as he could.

"Wait a second... Did you just say that _no one_ is there?" Investigating the thought, Poppy led the two quasi-spheres in merry bounds down to a little hut and peered through the star-shaped window. There he spotted the pink cream puff fast asleep on his star pillow with drool hanging on his lip. "Oh, sweet smeg. He's asleep!"

"And?" questioned Waddle Dee, growing more nervous. "Wake him!"

"Are you mad, man?" yelled the cyclops. "Do you remember what happened _last time_ we woke him up?"

The three drifted off to the memory of barging into the little house and shaking the pink blob awake. Slightly stirred from his rest, the hero stared at the trio through sleepy eyes, distorting their true images into tasty visions. Waddle Dee was replaced with an apple, Poppy Brother Jr. became an ice cream cone, and Waddle Doo transformed into a Waddle Dee.

"Hey!" protested the real and imaginary Dees. Despite the disagreements, the zombified globe swallowed all three in a single breath before slipping back into slumber.

"Oh, right," recalled Dee. "That was pretty bad, but what happened next was worse..."

_"Kirby's Intestine!"_ a mysterious voice called out as a logo of the words fell down, ushering in the three tumbling through a wave tube as familiar music played in the background.

"I don't know," corrected Doo, "I think the last part was the worst..."

_"Kirby's Colon!"_ the mysterious voice spoke again, but, this time, the logo read "Kirby: Right Back At Ya".

"I think you two are missing the point," stated Poppy as the memory sequence came to an end. "If _he's_ going to miss the contest due to be taking his usual month long nap after saving the day _yet again,_ then that means-"

"Someone else could actually win it!" realized Doo with glee. "This is great! And the best part is that there won't even be any competition for us since no one else knows-"

"Hi there, guys," a squeaky voice chirped. The eyes of the three were directed to a green, horned lump with a tail. "Check out m' new kicks," he boasted. "I just got 'em flavored today. Grape!" He smiled a fanged grin as the others looked among themselves. "... Okay, so I didn't have enough money to get 'em flavored. I just wrote over 'em with a purple marker, but it _was_ grape scented! ... Okay, eggplant." The demonic smile on Poppy's face grew just a little wider, signifying that he was actually frowning before, as he figured out the passerby would be no threat.

"Say there, buddy," he soothed, hopping over to his new "friend" and throwing an arm- er, hand around him, "you didn't hear any of that, did you?"

"... hear what, Poppy?" the green Dreamlander, Bogg, inquired with a slant of his brow.

"Nothing," fabricated the bomber. "Nothing happened. Okay?"

"Um... sure?" Bogg agreed with severe confusion.

"And just remember that nothing suspicious is going on or being planned," lied the cyclops.

"Yeah," added the biclops, "and Kirby isn't sleeping through this year's Rumbl-o-Rama." The goblin's jaw dropped as Doo and Poppy smacked their faces. "Yep, he sure isn't asleep... right behind me... just through that window." 

_"Kirby's missin' this year's Rumblo?"_ boomed the green globule whose voice echoed throughout the town, waking everyone with the message of hope. Soon, a stampede of ball-shaped people flooded from out of houses and over the hills to the starting line. Dee began sweating more profusely under the harsh gazes of Poppy Brother Jr. and Waddle Doo. "What? I said he _wasn't_ sleeping. Wasn't!"

Bogg somehow managed to get through the crowd of people to reach the starting line, largely since he ran _over_ them, bouncing off of heads. It was packed with hopefuls, and the numbers only grew. The word spread fast, apparently. Horribly cutting in line, which was neither single file, uniform, or evident, he was able to get registered rather quickly.

"Rumbler #121: Bogg," Mr. Tick-Tock shouted to rise above the crowd's commotion, jotting down the entry before accepting five more sign-ups. Seeing the growth of the swarm, he set back his clock hands to allow more time for the last minute registrations, an act he would be repeating several fold. After officially registering, the Rumblers could barely wait until the hour would strike and the contest began. Kaboola soared overhead with a flashing side panel, detailing the race's courses and rules, which were reiterated by ringing megaphones.

"The Rumbl-o-Rama is no-holds-bar. You will not be disqualified for hindering an opponent. Teams of any size are allowed, but only a single individual can claim the prize. The objective, the Legen_dairy,_ is hidden somewhere within the Dire Mire. In order to reach there, you will have to cross such dangerous terrains as the jagged peaks of the Cotton Mountains, the torrential Caramel Rapids, the burning Cinnamon Desert, the static filled Carpeted Canyon, the ominous Forest of Crayons, the..." The listing of ridiculous locations went on, but they did not worry Bogg too much. The goblin was more focused on sizing up his competition. He gave them all a good look over as the countdown till the start neared minutes. "... The initial course will start off through the perilous Cookie Dough Dale," sounded the speakers. Peering over, the green one saw the landscape make the drastic change from lush grasses to gooey batter.

"There is a cookie land right outside of town, and no one told me?" snapped Bogg. "What is up with that?"


End file.
